2020-04-24 - 9:33 p.m.
It's been SO long my dear old friend, and so much has changed. Not with me naturally, but around me. My brother got married. MARRIED! Now they're having a baby. My sister has a long time boyfriend who she will surely get married to, as she has been with this guy for as long as my brother has been with his wife, and they're living together out in Boston. Dad just retired last summer. Mom has gotten hip surgery and foot surgery within the year. And then there is me. Doing the same old, same old. Still single. No friends. Loser. Par for the course.
To be fair, I have had SOME changes. I had a concussion, then I had Shigella, then I had C. Diff and then I got another concussion. This last concussion kind of really made me lose my shit and I up and left my job at the end of December. The concussion was again at hockey, and not nearly as bad as my previous concussion as I never felt nearly as sick and fuzzy, but it seemed to mess my eyes up more. Now I wear prism glasses and have for the last two years. I was going occupational therapy forever, but kind of just dropped out when my original therapist left.
Anyway, I was getting pretty annoyed of not getting better and possibly because of the concussion I was just so mad all the time. Madder than normal. I had started going into work at like 5 am to get away by 2 pm because I just couldn't handle all the commotion around me. But there were a crew of guys that annoyed the shit out of me that came in around 6 and were always singing, whistling, banging on their desks, talking super loud, and it drove me mad. When they finally shut up, all the other loud fucking assholes were in. And they had changed it from being our own proofreading department to our own "pods" where each pod worked specific clients. I worked with Christine who mostly did this one thing while I did General Mills. General Mills had SO much more work, yet she never really helped because she mulled over the most asinine little shit on her jobs so I was always fucking overwhelmed. Even before the second concussion really, but that second concussion put me over the edge. I kept thinking "It HAS to get better! They HAVE to see it's not working!" But no. I had so many breakdowns. Once I remember saying "I quit" and walking off and sitting in the bathroom for like an hour and when I came back Christine was like "Where were you!? I was freaking out!" Like yeah, so was I. I think it was that time that others were coming to check up on me. You think people would realize after that I was over-stressed. No.
So work was crazy as ever, and headaches started coming back which I hadn't had much of since the glasses and it was making me even crazier. I even told Christine one day that my head had been getting so bad again so maybe she'd try to chip in, but she didn't. At the end of December, one day Christine was like, "So has Wendy talked to you?" And I was like "No." And she was like, "Well I'm out next week so you have to do my work." I sighed, because taking on her work with all my own while feeling worse and worse and it was just an impossible feat. Then she said, "I don't know what the problem is. I cover for you when you're out." And that's when I was done. Because no she didn't. Sure she did some General Mills work when I was done, but she didn't do anywhere near the work load I was doing every single day even when I was out. It just boggled my mind she was so fucking blind to this and I was over it. That night I told my parents on the phone I had quit (even though I technically hadn't at that point). They gave me all sorts of bullshit, and I gave them bullshit right back about how I was literally going to kill myself because I couldn't take it anymore. Not that they really understood still, but at least that was over with.
Then I went into work on Saturday evening, and luckily no one was there. Did a few hours of work and cleared my desk. Then I went home. Sunday evening I sent an email that I quit because of my concussion issues and that was it. I was totally expecting a call because I know the manager had called other people when they quit and they didn't even do a fourth as much as me. But they didn't. Maybe it's because I said it was from concussion issues and they couldn't argue that. I also avoided that work email for weeks because I just didn't want them to ever see I was on...but then when I finally got up the nerve to go on...my account was gone and I couldn't get in.
So now I work as an ILS worker. No, I don't know what that stands for. Basically, I help disabled people out some. I have two main clients. One I just went to the gym with and brought her to like bowling and sometimes movies. The other I bring her to appointments a lot, the gym, as well as kind of watching over her as she cleans at home. It pays shit and I really don't know what I'm doing, but it's SO much better than being at my old work. I also got a work at home job that I'm supposed to work 15-20 hours for as a search engine evaluator. It also pays shit, but I can do it any time which is fucking fantastic. Especially because I started going to school again.
Yup. Back to school. This time I'm just going for an associate's at a local community college for medical lab technician. I decided to do this before I quit my last job because no one was calling me back for any jobs I was applying for then, so I just wanted to completely get out of the industry and that's what I ended up choosing since it would get me away from being on computers all day which I think bothers my eyes. So I just started this past semester. I got out of doing several prereqs from college, but am still taking all the science prereqs. Currently I'm taking human bio and biology and this summer I'm taking chemistry. Chemistry II is the only other prereq I need. I also had to apply to the specific program and had to take a specific test to get in called the TEAS that allied health professionals take more like nurses. I got an 82.7% and while in the 91 percentile, I was scared because I read about all these nurses not getting into their programs with much higher scores and very high GPAs. But I got in. I am supposed to start the classes in the fall, BUT...coronavirus.
Yeah, like what's up with coronavirus? Never thought we'd have a crazy pandemic going on that shut things down in 2020. But here we are. Laura has it. She's had a fever between 102-105 for the last three weeks, but the fever is slowly going down. Not much, but a little.
So I kept meaning to right about my own health issues (asides from concussions) but kept forgetting, so lets do that now...shall we?
Okay, so two years ago now I went to Mexico with Laura and her family. It was fun. My first time leaving the country, and my first real vacation in probably 10 years. It wasn't like my family's vacations as we weren't running around to millions of places. We stayed in a condo her parents rent yearly. Her sister and husband stayed next door with the husband's parents, and the husband's aunt and uncle were also there. There was mostly eating and shopping. Sometimes Laura and I went to the rooftop pool. Once we went to the beach and were sexually harassed by this creepy dude named Paul Glickman. He's on imdb, look him up, go ahead. His hand was down his pants the whole time he talked to us. I was trying to get Laura to notice, but she didn't and kept talking to him just to be nice. But there were people on both sides of us that kept looking back because they knew he was a freakazoid. Finally the guy left and both of the people were like " We were already to save you because yuck!" It kind of ruined the beach. Overall, nice and relaxing. I felt and still feel a bit bad because I feel like I took advantage of her parents who basically paid for everything. I bought breakfast once for her parents, but really they paid for all other food AND they bought me this really cool little turtle souvenir.
Anyways, me and Laura flew back home after a week while her parents stayed down there. We got back on a Saturday so we had Sunday to rest before the work week. Monday I went to work and all was well (this was before my second concussion so I wasn't having meltdowns back then). Tuesday morning I woke up with a weird stomach pain. But stomach issues are very normal to me, and I thought it was probably because I was super constipated as I get on vacations and figured it was probably going to get gross that day but y'know. So I went in and it soon started. I was rushing off to the bathroom several times. One time, I looked in the toilet. TMI? Weird? I don't know. But I stared, because it looked like blood. That wasn't normal. I thought maybe it was the lighting. But no. Maybe it was just a one time thing. But no. It kept happening. I was starting to feel more off. Then I found out there was going to be a meeting. No way in hell was I going to sit in a meeting. Christine headed off to the meeting and I tried to get a little more done since we were behind (because y'know I was on vacation and Christine didn't cover for me because she was incapable), and then asked the manager if I could leave sick. Never have I done that in my life, but thank goodness I did.
I thought about going to urgent care because that's what my parents always said to do, but didn't want to because I kept needing to use the bathroom and those places don't often have easily accessible bathrooms. So I decided to wait it out, hoping I'd feel better. I didn't feel better, so called my parents after urgent cares were closed hoping they'd bring me to the hospital. They didn't. They told me to go to urgent care in the morning. The next morning I was like NO COME GET ME AND BRING ME TO THE HOSPITAL. So my mom (I'm sure it would have been my dad if it wasn't during session), begrudgingly showed up of course way more concerned about the cost and insurance than my health. I didn't have to wait horribly long at the hospital as it was a Wednesday morning. But they called me back first for triage, then for blood work, and then finally back in. Each time they called I was in the bathroom so good thing my mom was there to tell them that.
So basically before they brought me anywhere they were like "Poop in this" in like a hallway bathroom. So I did and they gave me a collection thing but I was like..."Yo, do you do this, or do I?" They may have wanted me to do it, but they did it. Then I got a room. I don't really remember the order of things after that, but I did get a CT scan and was told to go pee which at the time I hadn't thought about...but I hadn't been peeing and didn't need to go. But I got a little out for them. They got me hooked up to fluids pretty quick. Turns out my colon was severely swollen and my kidneys were not doing so well according to one doctor. Another doctor came in and told me they were going to start me on a bunch of different IV antibiotics because they were assuming it was from an infection but didn't know which one yet. And they were admitting me. I was staying. Urgent care mom? IN YOUR FACE!
When they got me up to a room they showed on a board they were hoping to get me out in a couple days. WHAT!? I wasn't expecting that. I got my own room which was like PHEW as I was still going to the bathroom all the time. I don't think I slept much, but it was actually really quiet there. They did come in every 2 hours or so and make me tell them my name and birthday and stuff but it was okay. The next morning my mom came back and hung out for a bit to see what the doctor would say, but she was getting hungry for lunch so stepped out to go to the cafeteria. Naturally this is when the doctor showed up. I had shigella. He asked if I wanted to stay so I could keep getting fluids or go home. I said go home. So he gave me a prescription which I think only ended up being three pills since I already had a bunch of the medicine from the IV. So while they had predicted like being in the hospital at least two days after I had walked into the ER, I was out in only like a little over 24 hours. My stomach hurt like a mother fucker though. I didn't eat forever.
I went back to work the following Monday still with a horrible stomach ache, but the bloody shits had been gone for awhile. I missed Easter which was fine because I don't like family. No offense, family. The following weekend I finally tried to venture out to do some light shopping with my mom. But I started feeling really odd. Like weird shivers up my spine. My stomach hadn't started feeling better, but the shivers were new. I also started shitting again, just not bloody yet more weird than normal. I went home and for the next couple days I was getting these weird shivers and just feeling gross, plus still suffering from the painful stomach ache. That Wednesday Christine said she was going to be gone Thursday and Friday, because of course she was. I didn't know how I was going to make it through those days being all alone with everyone up my ass and doing my insane workload PLUS hers (as y'know I actually covered for her unlike when she "covered" for me). So I stopped at urgent care on the way home. I was there for literally like 3 hours. The guy did every test in the book because he saw how sick I'd been, and as it turned out I had a fever. Nothing came back too bad when I was there, but he sent me home with stool sample kit.
I was like "Great" because I had no sample to get or give when I went to bed that night. But around 3 am I woke up and got that sample. Did I almost decide not to bother because I was tired? Yes. Did it make me dry heave and run in the hall? Yes. Did I almost not bother to drop it off on the way to work the next morning? Yes. But I did. I managed to last the day, even though I was quite ill and by that afternoon a doctor called with the news I had C Diff. Oh good. I was able to get the medication after work and it made my new horrible kind of shits stop, though my stomach pain still never faded.
After finishing that round of antibiotics, I set up an appointment with a normal doctor because the urgent care doctor said it was a good idea after I'd been so sick. She decided to put me on another round of antibiotics just in case. After that while I still had stomach pain, it seemed a bit better and I was starting to eat more than just applesauce. About a week or so after I finished that round of antibiotics, I got home from work one night and just as I was about to start making dinner my stomach went OFF. No dinner for me. I kept feeling sicker and sicker and found I had a fever of 102. Super weird for me. Since it was after hours, I sent my doctor an email asking if I could get another round of those antibiotics. Then I called my parents and told them I wasn't feeling well, and to just be sure to answer the phone. Good thing I did.
I was planning to go to work the next day because I figured they'd be pissed if I missed more work. Even though I knew it was probably C. Diff and sleeping early didn't matter, I tried to anyway but I kept getting up to go to the bathroom. Around midnight I headed to the bathroom and walking back to the bed, I like collapsed. I have no idea why. Maybe it was dehydration but I have no idea how it could have hit me so fast since I hadn't started with the diarrhea until that night and had been drinking normally all day. I dry heaved a few times. Then I called my parents, barely able to speak. My dad has never gotten here so fast. I did feel slightly better after sitting on the floor for some time, but I didn't want to risk it so basically crawled to the door and unlocked it in case I couldn't stand up by the time my dad got here. He made it. We got to the ER. And they did nothing. They didn't even give me fluid. They tested me for C Diff and I of course had it again, and my WBC was SUUUUPER high. So they gave me a dose of liquid vancomycin (I'd been given it in pill form by doctor), but couldn't fill the prescription for it since pharmacy was closed. So the next day I had to call into work since I was at the ER until like 4 am and hadn't slept, and I mean I was sick obviously. CVS couldn't fill it though. I was going to freak out but found the hospital pharmacy and was able to fill it. I was on it from like April or May until August/September. My brother's wedding was in September and I remember being scared because I was so afraid it was going to come back. BUT I'M GOOD! Except for the concussion...
Now for why I started writing tonight for the first time in years. Well I have issues with my mom, man. She's been doing spring cleaning and is just basically getting rid of EVERYTHING, and will ask if any of us kids want stuff. I went over today to go on a walk with my dad and then have dinner with them, and she was pointing at stuff she was getting rid of. She casually pointed at a bag and said they were filled with my sister's trophies. I just made the comment that some were probably mine because my sister liked to steal my trophies because she got medals instead of trophies so would take mine because she thought they looked cooler than medals. This for some reason made my mom flip out, because like how dare I accuse my sister of something that doesn't matter. Which pissed me off because just because it doesn't matter to her doesn't mean it doesn't matter to me. And it further pissed me off because I was just stating what my sister had literally told me she did. If my mom hadn't flipped out about it and was just like, "Oh I didn't know that" or something instead of acting like I was a cunt I wouldn't be such a bitch about it. So as usual she goes on and on about how all I do is complain, to which I snapped back all she ever does is complain too like about Trump (which is actually true unlike how she talks about me). And I told her how I have emotional issues because she's always invalidated my feelings, and now I can't share anything with anyone.
Dad and I left and we had a pleasant time. At one point we did talk a little about mom. He said how they get on her case when she complains about me stealing her stuff. Except when I "stole" from her I wore some of her clothes she left home when she was in college, and I always put them back just as she had them. Meanwhile she took things when I was around so there were times when she was off with my stuff when I wanted them. Plus she stole and lost my indoboard. I told my dad how I all I ever see is my mom taking my sister's side while she just acts like I have no right to ever be upset about anything. He made the excuse Eryn is my mom's baby. So I said "Yeah but it still sucks for me. I can't even think of any good memories with my mom. All she's done from as far back as I remember is yell at me and act like I'm in the wrong. She didn't do things with me, she always said she was too tired and didn't have time." He said we all have selective memories.
Then as I was leaving tonight my dad said when I was little my mom was grieving her mom. I never really thought about it, but her mom died when I was only like one. While she wasn't a new, new mom as she had my brother years before me, she was still only my age when her mom died. I can't imagine living in a world without my parents, even my mom who I never have seen eye to eye with. And then my sister was born and my dad said she had a really hard time with three kids. He did say my feelings about my mom are valid, but maybe to try and understand where she was coming from.
So I do. I do understand I was born at a shitty time in my mom's life. I don't think she could ever really bond with me because her grief and then suddenly having a newborn again. But it just sucks being the one that she never bonded to. I don't think we'll ever have a great relationship. I don't think she really ever wants to work on the relationship for real. She just wants me to be a nice, jovial, lovely daughter without any wayward feelings. She can accept my brother and sister having bad feelings, but not me. Which I don't really get that. I get we can't have that bond the others do, because she didn't have the kind of time with me she had with them when they were little because of what she was going through. But I don't get why she always acts like any negative feelings I've ever expressed are bad/wrong. Feelings can't be wrong you bitch!
I've long thought my issue with relationships are because of my relationship with my mom. I can't tell my mom things without her telling me to shut-up and stop complaining. So if my own mom thinks my feelings are invalid, how can a stranger think my feelings matter? If anyone acts like my feelings matter, then they've got to be just pretending. They'd only do it to get something out of me. Right? Like if I shared these feelings with a guy right now, he'd only pretend to care because then maybe I'd have sex with him. I can just never trust anyone to really give a damn about me. It's weird though, because I know my dad does. But for some reason because my mom doesn't, I can't trust anyone. I can't trust.
And of course when I have any of these feelings, all sorts of little things come up. Like I love caramel brownies and this mint ice cream dessert she makes. She made them for me like after dance recitals when I was little, but has never since. Even when I say that's what I'd like for my birthday. But she makes caramel brownies for her friends all the time. Or the mint dessert when Eryn comes home. She never made it for me when I was living in Arizona and came home, and I came home less than Eryn. Or caramel brownies when Jeremy and his wife come over for dinner. Never for me though. I'm not good enough for her to make something I like.
And I've never seen her talk to Eryn when going on Target runs like in college like she did with me. With her it was always, "Ready to go?" With me it was always, "I don't want to do this." And the interest she always expressed when my brother was complaining about his jobs. She never was interested in one word I ever said about my jobs. Bad or good. Always just interrupts. Like why? Why am I SO unimportant to you? And then the bitch has the gall to sometimes act like it's sad we don't talk about things. Like what bitch? What would you even listen to me about?
I wonder if she could think of any good memories of me during my childhood/teen years. Just with me. Most good memories I have with her is only because other people are there. It's crazy because I can remember so many times with my dad...and none with my mom. The closest to a good memory I can think of my mom when I was like a teen was when Eryn was like at a camp or grandma's or something, and the boys went backpacking. I happened to get sick, and she actually kind of took care of me. Then when I started getting better, I would hold the thermometer over the lamp to keep the fever going so she'd stay being nice and motherly toward me. That's kind of a fucked up memory if I'm being honest. Who pretends to be sick so their mom is nice?
I hate feeling like this especially during these uncertain times where she could be gone real quick if she gets the virus, yet I can't just drop the feelings. Every so often I feel like she listens to a piece of info I say, but it never really sticks and the relationship goes back to sucking. Whatever. Times change. But I can't change my mom. And she can't change me.
